


Smithy Hammer

by Daerwyn



Series: A Collection of Drabbles by Helmaninquiel [54]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sexual Themes, Smut, innuendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:40:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5307800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine watching Thorin work as a blacksmith.</p><p>300 Followers Drabble Celebration</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smithy Hammer

There were days you dreamed about being the anvil. About having Thorin pound on you for hours and hours on end, sweat dripping off his brown or down his neck, glistening his body. Where the smithy hammer would not cease until the flesh that connected you was spent and needed to be cooled off with some water. 

But it was when you caught yourself thinking these thoughts that you would quickly turn around in your stool, oblivious to the cheeky grin the dwarf would cut your way behind your back. You had begun to drool on two separate occasions. 

Surely there was something more valuable to do with your time. Yet you always found yourself grow more and more distracted with him. You didn’t even attempt to be discreet about it. You were at the point where you wanted him to notice you, you wanted him to do something about it. You may be bold, but you were not bold enough to interrupt his work. 

But when you turned around, it was not to stare at him… well, not entirely. He had stopped beating that poor sword. Well, any sword he beat had to be impressive. And when you realized he was not standing by the anvil, you jumped in alarm to find him standing just a few feet from you. “Is there something you need?” he questioned.

There were many things that came to mind, and none were something you could fathom saying aloud. “N-no,” you stuttered out. “Nothing at the moment, anyway-”

“Mmm,” he hummed and your insides absolutely melted at the sound. Oh, Mahal. “Too bad.” 

As he turned, you saw the slight smirk he gave, and he reached for the hammer once more, deposited on a damp wooden surface. “Wait-” you rushed out. You didn’t even know what you were about to say, but your mouth sure did. Your mouth, that you were sure would fit quite well around the hammer if he let you- FOCUS. He paused, but didn’t turn all the way around. Just tilted his head in acknowledgement. 

“I’m waiting.”

“I’d really rather you be just on the verge of absolute nerve-numbing bliss as I am,” you blurted. As soon as the words came out, you raised a hand over your mouth in horror. But Thorin’s deep chuckle sounded in the otherwise quiet smith-shop. You weren’t even technically supposed to be here. You could keep your father’s books well enough at home. But well… the view was better here.

“Is that so?” He set the hammer down and your eyes darted to it as he took a step closer to you. Swallowing, you met his eyes a second later and he was giving you a smoldering look. It made your insides turn to absolute lava. “And just how would we achieve that?”

“Well, it’s bound to be a team effort,” you murmured breathlessly as he stepped so close to you, his sweat-soaked shirt touched your own. You hadn’t even realized you had spread your legs apart on the stool so that he could stand between them. “Though I do not think it will take all that much more work on your part.”

“A pity,” Thorin muttered, and his hand reached up, gently touching your cheek. They were rough, calloused and hardened from the years he had worked for your father. “But… I suppose it could be something that I hold out on for as long as possible… for both of our sakes.”

Your breath shuddered as it left you, his thumb sweeping across your lips and halting any words that you were about to say. You couldn’t even think of words let alone say them. But you had to taste the metal on his flesh, the soot and ash. Though you would much rather be tasting something that was much more… well, unseen by the public eye. Your teeth nipped at the pad of his thumb, and he showed a half smile, as if your bold move was unexpected.

“Please,” you murmured.

“This is hardly the place for anything of that nature.”

“All the better,” you murmured. His thumb rested just at the corner of your lips, and he stepped even closer, his other hand clenching around your waist and bringing you closer. You were certain that it wasn’t another hammer he had on his person, but it sure felt like it.

“And when you go home,” Thorin whispered against them, though it was hardly a whisper as his deep voice made it only sound like he was hoarse, “limping from what I will do to you?”

Oh, that was one of the first excuses you had made when you planned out these encounters in your head. You gave him a chaste kiss, before your smirk showed him that you would always have an answer to that question. “Accident on the job.” It was a pity how many accidents there would be to come on the job. But with a smithy’s mighty hammer, well… accidents do happen. 


End file.
